“I’m giving him back to God. He is not my problem anymore.”
Every year for the last three years, I’ve tried my hardest to create a distance from you. Not because I want to, but because my mind and heart need it.
You cause me anxiety.
You cost me my sleep.
And the truth is, I don’t know how to be happy while fighting for you to love yourself. While fighting for you to see yourself in brighter lights. I can’t save me if I am constantly saving you.
Every time I see your number appear, my heart stops. I feel my soul and sanity begin to gather in the base of my stomach. PTSD begins to ring her alarm. I brace myself for every call, text message, dm and smoke signal you send.
You’ve taught me that I am resilient with all the pain you caused me. Not even the money, but the pain. You’ve taught me through your selfish actions that love will never be enough for you or people like you. I think they call them sadists.
They don’t tell you that love can feel this way.
That love can make you stand on the edge of your 26th-floor terrace and beg God to just take you.
They don’t tell you that your favorite person can also be your poison.
You are my poison. Your venom is slow but debilitating.
And I don’t hold it against you. I know you’re stuck right now.
But I can’t be stuck with you anymore.
I just can’t.
Every month, G.G. Renee of All the Many Layers provides writing prompts that encourage self-discovery while getting on into the habit of releasing via art or writing. Seeing as I can only draw stick figures and smiley faces, writing is the avenue I’ve decided upon.
I don’t think it comes as a surprise that over the years my writing has become less about me and more about helping others. I’ve kind of lost my mojo over the years but have found peace in my short-form shares via IG captions and tweets. But I miss the days of personal blogging.
I miss being able to keep up with the lives of other bloggers through their writing and personal essays. I miss when the words didn’t have to be pretty and come with some sort of underlying takeaway, other than the lesson learned from what was shared.
So instead of searching the internet for it, I figured I’d start with doing just that myself. I’m going back to my roots: writing for me, and writing for my healing.
I hope you all don’t mind, but this next month is for me.